The Less I Know
by bummersummer
Summary: Revy's eyebrows creased, and her mouth clicked shut. She didn't bother fixing the strap that fell off her shoulder. "Must be a luxury, huh, Sis. Fucking."


Special thanks to Fwallow for this wonderful idea! and thanks to all the kind reviewers. hope you all enjoy. (and you, Jo!)

Takes place after 'Oversaturation Kill Box?" when the whole Roberta debacle is over. I may have gotten some facts wrong but... hey, it's a fanfiction. I wanted to write a small little oneshot, which of course took me forever. I'm thinking of another chapter fic, though. I'll probably add a part two to this, firstly.

disclaimed

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Balalaika knew as soon as the door shut behind Revy what this was about. She shuffled in, cowboy boots brushing against one another in the still room. The only difference about her- the fact Revy was angry wasn't new, and it never will be- was the tight bandage wrapped around her bicep. Her tanned fingers twitched by their sides; clearly hungry for a gun in their grasp.

She chewed her cigar for a moment. Balalaika let out a soft puff of smoke, and let it dissipate as it went towards the ceiling. Then locked eyes with Two Hands. "Yes, Revy?"

It was a filthy habit of hers, to play faux ingenue about their whole situation. As if Balalaika had no idea just three weeks ago Revy was under her, nails digging into the thick muscle of her hips, pretending not to be a whining mess. It'd been a while, obviously, and Balalaika would be lying if she wasn't seeking to throw Revy over her shoulder and haul her to the leather couch lining one of the walls of her office.

She smiled around her cigar at the thought.

"You fucking tried to kill me. You... you ordered your fucking men _to shoot me in the goddamn arm_!" Revy hissed, back hunched like a cornered animal, teeth bared. And to be honest, Balalaika noted, the wound looked nasty. A millimeter to the right and there would have been some permanent damage. Her men did nice work, making sure she could still use her arm.

"W-What, warning shots weren't enough for you?! You goddamn psychopath, you enjoy seeing me suffer huh? _That gets you off_? What, I didn't fuck you proper last time?" Two Hands continued, whispering to Balalaika, aware of the threats just outside the thick door.

"It was business, Rebecca. There was nothing personal to it. You and your entourage were in the way of Hotel Moscow's quarry."

Revy placed a steady hand on the desk, nails curling into the dark wood. Her breath was shaky, and her eyes narrowed. "That's fucking it?!"

"If I wanted to have you killed I would have." Balalaika attempted to soothe, however, it only came out sounding more like a threat. She took another pull of her Havana cigar. One of Revy's mussed strands brushes Balalaika's bangs. The Russian stood up, slowly, her eyes focused on the liquor cabinet behind Revy's head. The amber liquid shined through the glass. Balalaika swallowed thickly.

She slowly walked over, heels creaking on the aged wood. Completely ignoring the fuming gunslinger who stood next to her desk. Cigar dangling from her mouth, she used one hand to open the cabinet and take out a bottle of bourbon, setting it on the ledge jutting out underneath the glass door. She took two wide glasses, pouring the alcohol until it nearly kissed the brim. Balalaika held one out, head tilted humorously to Revy's shaking visage. Her anger did seem a bit comical. Her nostrils would flair, her teeth would grind, and her shoulders would raise like some cat.

A fist swung from her, nearly knocking the glass from the blonde's hand. Balalaika quickly tossed it to the side, the ornate glass smashing against the wall. The contents dripped down the tan wallpaper, pooling on the waxed floor. Revy's eyes widened ever so slightly, whether it was fear or surprise. She didn't back down, however. Her hands brushed where her guns usually stayed. Balalaika grabbed Revy's wounded arm, putting pressure on the wrapped wound; until Revy tugged at it.

She pulled her close, until her lipsticked lips pressed above Revy's jaw. The gunslinger's breathing came out in a quick rattle, a low painful grunt until Balalaika slackened her grip.

"You know that I would not order a shot at you under any normal circumstances." The Russian murmured into her hair, her hand traveling down until it found purchase at palming her jean-clad hip. Revy pressed back.

"You nearly crippled the other bitch I was with." Revy replied, eyes staring straight ahead. She was obviously doing the same thing she did every time, to pretend Balalaika's hands didn't make her squirm. Revy enjoyed thinking she could hide her wants from the Russian, but her face was so expressive when she'd tighten her thighs together, or get even more so easily riled up.

"Who was the _other bitch?_ " Balalaika said, nipping her earlobe. Using one long acrylic, she tugged the elastic keeping Revy's burgundy hair in a low ponytail. It spilled around her shoulders, and Balalaika let out a soft moan in hidden delight. It'd always either smelled like cheap shampoo, the chemical likes of fake flowers and ocean breezes, or whatever men's wash that lined the tub.

A sharp knock sounded on the door, but Balalaika remained by her side, squeezing the flesh underneath her hand. She tug her nails in when Revy began to fidget.

"Kapitan?" Boris's muffled voice came behind the door. The Russian crinkled her eyes in a silent smile. She always knew no matter what, he'd be be nearby.

"Everything is fine, Sergeant. You know how negotiations are."

Heavy footsteps faded away, and despite herself, Revy let a low sigh of relief. "Her name's Shenua, or some shit."

"Mm." Chang's girl. Balalaika almost admired Revy for withholding that from her. She pressed a hot kiss to Revy's shoulder, underneath her tank top strap, an action that could have been interpreted as an apology. Which was followed up with a sharp bite.

"Don't leave a fuckin' mark now, Sis." Revy whined, sliding her legs together. One of her hands ran up along Balalaika's back, tugging at the thick strands of her hair. The blonde sighed contently, wishing she'd tug harder. Turning her head, Revy pressed her cheekbone to Balalaika's forehead. She could feel Revy take a sharp inhale at the closeness, rubbing her toned body against her suit.

"Three weeks too long for you, девушка?" Balalaika bit lightly on the side of her throat, one where it could be hidden by her hair. She swirled her tongue around the bruised area before pulling away, sliding her nose up into her hair.

"Fuck you." Revy grunted in response, moving her eyes to the wall again, her face becomes flushed. Any callousness in her tone died before delivery.

"You can say yes, Two Hands." Balalaika teased, pulling her head away. She looked at Revy until the gunslinger was forced to look back at her, eyes narrowed. Her lips were parted until she bit her bottom look.

She'd love to wrap her hands around her neck and choke the poor girl out, to bite and scratch and throw her against the wall. To shove her shorts down and tease her with long nails until it stung. But Balalaika remembered her men outside the door, and what they'd think if Revy left looking mussed and beat up. Boris would be the most understanding. And if word spread...

She removed her hand from Revy's hip, paranoia swarming behind her eyes.

Revy's eyebrows creased, and her mouth clicked shut. She didn't bother fixing the strap that fell off her shoulder. "Must be a luxury, huh, Sis. Fucking."

"You have little idea," Balalaika replied. Her fingers itched to hold a cigar. She'd found that in the stretching lengths of breaks they had to take, she'd smoke even more than she used to. However, she'd rather die than admit after the first time Revy was beside her she never knew how much physical need she had bottled up inside her. And that would never be said.

Instead, Balalaika eyed the bandage wrapping Revy's bicep, and kept her hands to herself. She wanted Revy to fix that fucking strap, to stop showing off that new mark upon her skin or this time the _blonde would fucking lose it_. "Dutch's handiwork?"

"You bet." Revy grinned, weakly. Whatever lust-filled stage shed been thrust in to was slowly weaning off, but her thighs were still tightly packed together.

"Mm. I remember the signature stitch he did."

"I fucking remember it to. You didn't even blink. I thought, damn, that bitch is fuckin... remarkable. Of course, I wasn't the one who shot you in the fucking stomach, did I." Revy stated, then her eyes drooped again. She looked so needy it was almost pathetic, like a beaten puppy. She took a sure step forward, molding back into Balalaika's body, desperation clouding her features. She laid her forehead into Balalaika's jaw, for a split second, before quickly tearing herself away.

"You could have killed me. Another dead bitch in the gutter." Revy continued, face contorting into one of shameful anger.

"They knew where to shoot. They were not going to eliminate you. You're useful to your company, and to ours." Balalaika repeated, remembering the stray cigar in her desk. She felt the urge to strike Revy across the face, and when she was dazed she'd throw her over the desk. To make grabbing the cigar efficient.

"I'd imagine so, huh. _Kapitan's_ more easy to deal with when she's just had a girl eat out her cunt." The gunslinger spit, becoming more and more hurt by her own thoughts by the minute. She pulled away, running her hand through her tangled hair.

"Shut it." Balalaika stated, following her until they were chest to chest again.

One taloned hand wrapped loosely around her throat, and Revy snapped to attention, eye contact wavering. "But it's the fucking truth, isn't it?"

"It might as well be, if you believe that. I think you would just like me to hurt you." Balalaika whispered, her Russian accent slipping in at the end. She kissed Revy full on the mouth, biting Revy's bottom lip until she opened her mouth to gasp. "you know this. Don't play coy. We both understand that's not how this works."

Revy moaned in reply. She grabbed Balalaika's hips, right hand sliding down to grope at her ass. Balalaika ran her hands up the gunslinger's back, until they both fist in her hair tightly, wrenching her head back. Balalaika continued with her bruising kisses, until Revy's bottom lip glittered in the morning sun with spit.

"But we need to separate, for now. There are other objectives I need to finish with today."

"Besides this, right here?" Revy smirked, taking Balalaika's wrist and leading it in between her thighs.

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Might come back and do some editing, lord knows that i find mistakes when I'm rereading it AFTER i post it. if balalaika sounds ooc in this, i'd understand. I'm really not used to her doing all this talking, haha!

Poor Revy. she's.. she's going through it.


End file.
